A Matter of Patience
by Takebuo Ishimatsu
Summary: Someone else is waiting for the day he can reveal his magic. Unfortunately, Arthur enjoys Merlin's attempts at lying too much to tell him so. Goes from pre-friendship all the way to definite Merthur. 3rd in series but can stand alone. Arthur's POV.
1. Waiting for Answers

**Title:** A Matter of Patience

**Author:** Takebuo Ishimatsu

**Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin

**Summary:** Someone else is waiting for the day Merlin can reveal his magic. Unfortunately, Arthur enjoys his attempts at lying too much to tell him so. Goes from pre-friendship all the way to definite Merthur. 3rd in series but can stand alone. Arthur's POV.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Merlin.

_AN: I'm still not certain I like how this came out, but after three re-writes, I've decided to just go with it. _

_***This first chapter takes place pre-friendship (pretty much due to denial on Arthur's part) before Opinion & Perfection.***_

**Chapter One: Waiting for Answers**

Arthur paused in his trek towards his chambers as a loud crash rang out just behind him. Hand on his sword, he slowly crept back towards the corridor he'd just passed. He stopped for a moment, listening to soft-spoken words that almost seemed in another tongue. A foreign assassin?

He whipped around the corner, sword drawn and was met with the sight of…Merlin. The two young men stared at each other for a moment, his manservant's eyes especially wide. Arthur's gaze was then drawn down towards the small vase he was holding, one which looked startlingly familiar.

Frowning, he accused, "Is that the vase Sir Devon gave us?"

Merlin quickly shook his head, "No." Arthur raised an eyebrow while sheathing his sword. The servant quickly changed his answer, "I mean, yes, of course." He was now nodding enthusiastically. Arthur spread his hands in an unspoken "What are you doing?" question.

"Well, I-I was…cleaning it?" The look on Merlin's face made the statement into a question far more than his voice did. Goodness, the other was a horrible liar; Arthur wondered why he even bothered.

He contemplated for a moment whether such an atrocious fib should even be blessed with a response, but in the end he couldn't pass up the opportunity for the sarcastic, "In the middle of the night?"

"I was having trouble sleeping and since I was awake anyway, I decided to get some work done." That line could have almost been genius if it weren't for the known fact that Merlin was the worst manservant in history, including tendency towards laziness when he could get away with it.

"I wasn't aware that it arrived dirty," Arthur said mockingly, watching several expressions pass over his servant's face before the other shrugged.

"You never know what can be hidden in these old things." Arthur had to resist snorting at the cryptic response. For an idiot, Merlin could be bloody brilliant sometimes.

They continued to look into each other's eyes before Arthur finally gave the impression of giving in to Merlin's "Please believe me" smile. In truth, he'd known from the second he'd caught glimpse of familiar blue eyes he was going to leave the other to do whatever he wanted. After all, Crown Prince he may be, but who was he to get in the way of a determined sorcerer?

He stepped aside and indicated with an arm that Merlin could go first. His manservant took the opportunity to try and make a hasty escape but was unfortunately stopped by his own feet when he seemingly tripped over _air_.

Make that determined, _frighteningly clumsy_ sorcerer.

Arthur looked Heaven-wards, as if the stone ceiling above could protect him from unintentional magic, which he was certain was going to turn him into a toad one day. The Prince silently thanked whoever might be listening for at least making sure Merlin didn't drop the "unclean" vase while he was still nearby. The last thing he wanted was to be cursed to eternal sleep or enchanted to love Morgana or something equally horrible. On top of that, knowing his luck, it would be _then_ that Merlin turned him into a toad.

The worst part of it all was that he couldn't even properly reprimand the idiot without giving away what he knew. And he was determined to make Merlin tell him, not the other way around. Or, rather, he was determined to be amused until the other conceived a lie so unbelievable he _had_ to call him out on it.

Not to mention, things could get very complicated very quickly once the other knew that he knew. He might even expect the Crown Prince of the most magic-hating kingdom on the planet to help him with his spells, and that was something he just wasn't going to do. Ever. He would keep his manservant's secret, but he wasn't going to directly defy his father by participating.

Unable to shout at the dolt for potentially endangering them both with his usual blundering, he settled for, "Yes, of course Merlin, let's break Sir Devon's _priceless_ antique vase the night of its arrival."

"I'm sorry, won't happen again."

Arthur snorted. The day Merlin didn't break something was the day his father took up reading Merlin's "secret" spellbook (the one he kept in plain sight by his bed) at the breakfast table. In fact, now that he thought about it, he wondered if he'd not already magic-ed the vase back together earlier when he'd heard the foreign words. He gave the other an uncertain look, now worried that someone's soul was wondering about the castle or something equally likely to be caused by only someone as inept as Merlin. For his part, the servant gave him a completely innocent look in return.

"See that it doesn't. Or, knowing your usual failure at everything, at least wait until I'm far away and have reasonable deniability."

Merlin gave him a disbelieving look, "So, you're saying, if the vase were to suddenly disappear, you wouldn't say anything?"

"I'm _saying_, if I were to leave now, while the vase is still intact and it should come up missing tomorrow I'll not know anything of it should my father ask," He looked away, pretending to be observing something in the distance. For some reason, even after everything he had done and everything he would do for the other, it still felt wrong to openly admit he would lie to his father. For a servant no less!

"You would really do that for me?" he asked in wonder.

Arthur, unable to take the tender hope that had come into the other's voice, snapped back, "You doubt my word?"

"No, of course not! It's just so…not prattish," Merlin replied with a smirk. Arthur gave him one in return.

"You're going to the stocks tomorrow," he replied in his most charming voice before walking determinedly past the other.

"What did I do?"

He heard scurried feet behind him and sincerely hoped the other didn't drop the vase again. The last thing he needed was a curse upon his _arse_. He frowned. Was that even possible? He made a mental note to ask his manservant one day, once his secret became known.

He wasn't surprised to see Merlin come up to his direct right, walking alongside him as an equal. He could be put in the stocks for that alone.

"I warned you what would happen if you called me a prat again."

"It was a compliment!" Arthur could just barely see Merlin's incredulous look out of the corner of his eye. Of course, he wouldn't think anything of his remark. He treated the Crown Prince as if he was some random street vendor.

"Your compliments suck," he drawled.

"Oh come on Arthur!" he whined.

"You're not supposed to call me by my name either. A servant addressing his master should always use sir or master and for me in particular it can also be sire, your highness, my Prince…I'm sure even _you_ get the idea."

"Your Royal Clotpoleness," Merlin whispered.

Arthur stopped suddenly and glared at the other, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Merlin gave him his best innocent look, which would have made a nun look guilty.

"You called me a clotpole," Arthur said it as a statement rather than a question.

Nevertheless, Merlin responded with a quick shake of the head, "No I didn't."

"Yes you did," he replied with emphasis.

"Did you hit your head today?" Merlin gave him a faux concerned look, pointing to his own temple. The Prince rolled his eyes and continued walking.

"You are definitely going to the stocks now." Arthur said in his unwavering "Prince" voice, inviting no argument. Of course, Merlin argued anyway.

"Couldn't we maybe consider it paid? You know, for all those times I helped you out while you were sneaking off with Sophia when you were supposed to be meeting with the _King_?"

Arthur didn't even pause, "That was you being a good servant, for once in your pathetic life. And, if you try to tell my father the truth, who do you think he'll believe?"

"They threw potatoes at me!"

They both froze at Merlin's outburst, waiting for the sound of footsteps. When none came, Arthur gave himself another mental note to post more guards around the area. Though, if they hadn't heard _that_, he worried for Camelot's safety in general. He shuddered at the sudden thought of depending solely on Merlin for back-up.

Turning towards the other, he nonchalantly whispered, "You know, if we get caught with that," he nodded at the vase, which he was surprised was still intact after all the walking, "I'm saying I was stopping you from stealing it."

"Some friend you are."

Arthur frowned. "Who said we were friends? I am Prince of Camelot and you are my servant. At most, I tolerate you."

Merlin had an uncharacteristically smug look on his face. "_Right_. That's why you'd lie to your father for me. Tolerance."

"Perhaps I'm just too honorable to see a man whipped for his incurable idiocy," he snapped back.

Merlin suddenly looked down at the vase with some worry, "You really think he'd have me whipped?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, his annoyance slightly dissipating at the ill-hidden fear in the other's eyes. "I did mention that it was _priceless_, didn't I?"

Merlin shrugged. "So was that tapestry, but nobody did anything then."

Arthur recalled the old family heirloom, destroyed by flying wine, with a shudder, "That thing was _ugly," _he leaned in to whisper, more out of habit than any real fear of being overheard, and Merlin leaned to meet him, "Truthfully, I think father was happy to have a reason to toss it."

Merlin smiled, "Sir Kay thought it was the epitome of 'beauty in stillness.'"

Arthur snorted, "Have you seen what's in Sir Kay's room?"

"You mean that cat-dog-thing he has in the corner?"

"And the statue of his lover he made that looks like a pregnant cow?"

"I'd love to see her face when he finally works up the nerve to give it to her."

They were holding their sides by then, leaning against each other. Before he knew what was happening, Arthur's hand went out to the other's shoulder to support himself. The touch jolted him back to reality. Noticing just how _close_ they were, he quickly stepped back, just imagining what his father would say if he'd seen him fraternizing with his servant in such a way.

"Don't you have some cleaning to do?" He nodded towards the vase.

The sorcerer looked startled at having forgotten it, but not overly worried. That gave the Prince some peace of mind. If in nothing else, at least in the realm of magic did he place his trust in Merlin. After all, he was fairly certain that he was the one who'd actually defeated the gryphon; though that was something else he needed to ask his servant one day.

"Um…are you still going to put me in the stocks?" He asked slowly, as if he didn't want to remind the other in case he'd already put it out of his mind. Arthur looked into his eyes for a moment before turning around without answering.

Once a few paces away, he called out in warning, "Try not to be late tomorrow."

Of course, he wasn't surprised the next day when Merlin was not only late, but also more clumsy than usual due to lack of sleep. Nor was he surprised when his father called for the vase to be made the centerpiece of the table, only to find that all of its exotic markings had mysteriously come off. Merlin's excuse of "over-scrubbing" it didn't impress the King too much, but he soon forgave the lad, and even blessed him for his "dumb luck," when Sir Devon tried to stab him once it'd become apparent his plan had failed.

The Prince was quite curious to know what the harmless looking object would have done, but was patient enough to put it on at the bottom of his list of "Things to Ask Merlin Once _It_ Is Known." The top of said list was a question which had plagued the Prince for many weeks, since he'd first learned of the other's magic. The question being: if Merlin was already the worst manservant in history _with_ magic, how much worse would he be _without_ it?

_AN: Well, what did you think? All feedback & criticism is welcome. Also, I'd just like to take a moment to mention that I have a __section in my profile__ in which I state what I'm currently working on (including things that aren't posted, such as the "Matter of" oneshots). This fic should have about three more chapters & thus I'll list there when I'm working on them before they're posted._


	2. Waiting for Duels

**Title:** A Matter of Patience

**Author:** Takebuo Ishimatsu

**Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin

**Summary:** Someone else is waiting for the day he can reveal his magic. Unfortunately, Arthur enjoys Merlin's attempts at lying too much to tell him so. Goes from pre-friendship all the way to definite Merthur. 3rd in series but can stand alone. Arthur's POV.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Merlin.

_***This first chapter doesn't have a specific time in mind, though it's mentioned that it's right after the Sophia incident. I'm gonna say that they're definitely friends by now, but Arthur tries to stay in denial.***_

**Chapter Two: Waiting for Duels**

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Stop being such a girl Merlin. What happened to the confident man that claimed he could take me apart with less than a blow, even after he knew I was the Prince?

"I'm fairly certain he'd been hitting it pretty hard that morning. You shouldn't take anything he said to heart." Merlin made a drinking motion, making it clear just what "he" had been hitting that day. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You don't drink."

"Exactly. Now you know why."

By this time, Arthur could practically feel his knights' amused glances. He glared at his insolent manservant for once again making him look like a fool Prince that couldn't control his most base of subjects. Only the fact that the brunette was slightly more proper in front of his father and visiting nobles saved him from a swift kick in the ass.

"All right then, if you don't want to do it, I will," Arthur threw up his hands in mock surrender before starting towards the wall of the castle.

He still couldn't believe Merlin had not only shot directly in the middle of three towers, going through two windows on top of that, but had somehow managed to get his father's prized golden arrow stuck up in one of the flags. The most frightening part was that he was fairly certain he hadn't even used any magic.

"I never said I wouldn't do it. I just said that it didn't seem like a very good idea."

Arthur smirked but was careful not to let the other see it. He'd had a feeling the fear for his safety might get the other moving. Though, now that he thought about it, he wasn't entirely certain he liked the idea of _Merlin_ protecting _him_, let alone the fact that the other man had seemingly made a habit out of it.

"And I suppose you have a better idea?"

He paused to wait for the response. Merlin's eyes drifted up the whole thirty feet of stone to finally rest on the center of one of the banners.

He shrugged slightly, his usual innocent smile in place as he responded, "Maybe we should just leave it for the moment? You never know, a wind might come up and blow it down for us."

Arthur snorted, "Or maybe my father will notice the bright, shiny _thing_ stuck up in the banner and order someone else to get it down. And then maybe he'll ask them how it got there."

He nodded towards his men, who were trying to give the impression of not listening but were failing quite spectacularly at it. Sir Kay even started a little when he realized the Prince was indicating them. In truth, Arthur doubted that they would say anything to anyone, lest the King asked them personally, but he wasn't taking any chances. He knew his father would _not_ be pleased if he found out Merlin had been messing around and had almost lost a family heirloom. One that wasn't atrociously hideous and had in fact been sacredly passed down from father to son for generations.

Merlin bit his bottom lip but didn't respond, still looking at the arrow judgingly. Arthur knew by now what his normal method was and what he was then trying to do. He would get everyone to leave somehow, then claim to have forgotten something, run back and magic it down, and then come up with some horribly unbelievable excuse as to how he got it. He probably _would_ say the wind blew it down, never mind that it was the calmest day they'd seen in a fortnight.

The Prince would have normally let him get away with it if it'd just been him, or even just he and some random noble. But he knew Merlin had already pushed his luck too many times when it came to the knights. They were around the two often enough to notice a trend, just as Arthur himself had many months ago, and the Prince couldn't say for certain if they'd all keep quiet.

"I'll get it down, sire," Sir Percival stepped forwards and the Prince shook his head.

He would never intentionally put Merlin in danger, but there was specific reason he wanted his servant to do it and not anyone else. The other man had magic for goodness sakes! He was not going to risk one of his other men when he was certain the servant could somehow make certain he wouldn't fall while making it seem like luck if something did happen. The other had been doing it for months, after all.

"Maybe I should just tell your father what happened, I'm sure he'll understand." Even the knights, who were politely _not_ listening to their lord argue with his naughty manservant, had to give the young sorcerer a Look at that.

Arthur mentally groaned, silently wishing for the day Merlin's secret could be known and things wouldn't be so complicated. In fact, he was debating just pulling the other to the side and telling him right then and there what he knew, if only to save himself from the agony of Merlin's stupid ideas. Honestly, "I'm sure he'll understand?" As if! His father would probably "understand" enough to have his servant flogged more like it.

"Merlin! Either do it or don't! We can't all be standing around here all day," he finally snapped, deciding once again to keep quiet. _Merlin_ would tell _him_ one day, not the other way around. Or, as Arthur expected would be the case, he'd screw up and "reveal" his secret. And, he certainly didn't need to show his trump card in order to defeat a _wall_. He'd climb it himself if Merlin wouldn't do it.

"Ok! Ok! No need to be so cranky!" his servant huffed out, irritated that his master presumably didn't care for his safety. Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me? I am Crown Prince; I do not get 'cranky.' I get annoyed at my idiotic, cowardly servant who not only managed to get the only valuable thing in the Northeastern Tower stuck up in the banner but now refuses to help get it down!"

Well, in truth, he might have been a little _short tempered_ that day, but that was only because Merlin had been so late that morning he'd not had time for breakfast before meeting with his father. At which meeting, the King had kindly pointed out that his breeches were untied. Arthur scowled; just thinking about it again completely evaporated any good mood he might have had.

"Oh, forgive me sire! Clearly I was mistaken!" Arthur was in the middle of an accepting nod when Merlin continued, "You're not cranky! You're just an ass." The servant's voice had risen with anger and his cheeks had received a tinge of red.

Arthur stared at the other a split second, not quite believing he'd actually said that, before starting forward in a determined pace. He smirked internally as Merlin's displeased scowl turned into an "Oh shit" look and the other started backing up quickly. Arthur picked up his pace, knowing the brunette couldn't walk straight slowly, let alone backwards with speed. Merlin, as if realizing just then that he was in deep trouble, turned tail and ran off towards the tower. Arthur began jogging after him, silently cursing his heavy armor and Merlin's sudden swiftness when faced with apparent danger.

He could hear Sir Caradoc's calls, begging him "not to hurt the lad," which he ignored. He wasn't going to beat him to death, just rough him up a bit while he had the opportunity. There was nothing out there for Merlin to magic into his path as he'd done during their first fight, and he was going to enjoy getting some pay back.

The servant ran up the rope they'd tied let down from one of the windows and frantically began to climb. Arthur was a bit amused to realize the other preferred the risk of a thirty foot drop to facing him. Not that the powers that be seemed to want to give him a choice…the other made it up about five feet or so before he dropped flat on his back. Arthur could hear a few "oooooo's" and the general sentiment of "That's gotta hurt" in the distance.

Strolling leisurely up to his prey, he placed his hands on his knees and leaned directly over the other's head. He gave the sorcerer a friendly smile that they both knew was far more dangerous than his normal glare.

"I'm sorry, Merlin, but I don't think I quite heard you just a minute ago. What did you call me?" He gave the other an expectant look.

"I didn't say anything." Merlin shook his head as he answered, his best (or worst, depending on your perspective) innocent look in place. Arthur smirked, not having any of that.

"Really? Because it certainly sounded like you called me an ass again. And you know what happened the last time you called me that, don't you?"

"Well, first off," Merlin held up his hand, one finger raised, which looked a little odd considering he was still flat on his back, "I didn't call you anything, you must be hearing things. Probably all those knocks to the head during training. And secondly," here he held up another finger, "last time I called you that, you stopped your men from throwing me in the dungeon. You even said there was 'something about me.'"

Arthur shook his head, his frighteningly friendly smile still in place.

"Right, that was just after we had a nice little duel with…maces, I believe? Well then, let's get to it, shall we?"

He pulled off his gauntlet and tossed it on the ground right next to the other's head, causing him to flinch. Merlin glanced at the object out of the corner of his eye before looking back up at the Prince and shaking his head.

Merlin clasped his fingers together, indicating he had no desire whatsoever to pick up the piece of armor, "I refuse."

Arthur rolled his eyes and held out his hand, "Come on Merlin, get up."

"No thanks, I think I'll stay here for a while. Admire the nice weather we're having."

"Merlin, I'm not kidding, _get up_."

"Ooooh no, that's not gonna happen," he shook his head once more, a sarcastic smile taking form. Arthur looked to the heavens for help. He was starting to lose his anger to annoyance, and if that was Merlin's plan, even he had to admit his servant was a genius.

"Merlin, if you don't get up, I'm going to have my knights pick you up and carry you to the stocks, where you'll stay until tomorrow morning _if_ I feel like forgiving you then."

"So, you're saying my choices are between not accepting your challenge and being put in the stocks, which happens enough even when I am in your good graces, or accepting it and being hit by you with a mace? Hmm…let me think about that." Merlin twisted his lips in a mock "thinking face" and looked past his master towards some clouds off on the right.

"I'm not going to hit you with a mace," he admitted with some exasperation.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"It's a proper duel, moron. I'm going to hit you with my sword," he grabbed the hilt of his weapon for emphasis, desperately trying to fight off the smile he felt tugging at the corner of his lips. Good Lord above, the situation was so utterly ridiculous!

Merlin nodded mockingly, "That's much better."

"Merlin! Stand up and face me like a man!" He stood to his full height and loomed over the other. Of course, being that it was Merlin, his servant wasn't impressed and instead stayed just as he was.

Arthur mentally sighed, knowing what the other was doing. While others might not think twice about kicking an errant servant, everyone that knew him knew that he would never attack a man while he was down. Even if he was down by his own volition. If only Merlin's magic was revealed! Then the other would at least face him in an honorable fashion, as he'd done when they'd first met.

He looked down into blue eyes, wondering if he shouldn't make good on his threat of carrying him to the stocks. His lips began to twitch as a sudden idea came to him, and, without further ado, he promptly sat down on Merlin's stomach. He was quite satisfied at the sound of air leaving the servant's lungs in a big whoosh.

"Get off! Get off!" Merlin began trying to push the other off, something he probably wouldn't have been able to do even in the proper position.

"I don't know, Merlin. I kind of like this new seat, even if it is a little boney."

"Do you have any idea how much you weigh in all that?" Merlin gasped.

"Not really," Arthur shook his head nonchalantly.

"I'll get up! I swear! Just _get off_!" Arthur glanced down at the other for a moment before nodding once and standing unhurriedly. Merlin sighed in relief, which didn't last long when the Prince offered his hand. Hesitantly, the servant took it, and was gently pulled to his feet.

"Well then, Merlin. Since it's apparent you lack the ability to get it down yourself, how should we go about it? Oh yes, pick that up."

Arthur glanced up to the arrow still stuck up thirty feet above, while at the same time waiving towards the gauntlet still resting on the ground. He was just able to catch Merlin's incredulous look out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'm not picking that up."

"Yes, you are. And then you're going to refasten it, which is about the only thing you're good for," he held up his arm expectantly.

"If I do, you're not going to hit me with a mace?"

"Don't you listen? I already said I wasn't going to do that."

Merlin rolled his eyes, "You're not going to hit me with your _sword_?"

Arthur gave the other an odd look, "Do you want me to?"

Merlin shook his head, "Not really, no. Just wondering if I should prepare myself for it."

Arthur snorted, "You'd need a lot of preparing, believe me. In fact, that's why I've decided to postpone our duel. After the completely pathetic display of cowardice and utter lack of skill, I feel it wouldn't be a proper fight. And so, we'll wait until later."

Merlin snorted himself, his usual friendly smile returning, "Sorry to say, sire, but you might be waiting for that duel for a long time." He bent down to pick up the arm piece and then efficiently connected it again.

Arthur nodded but didn't say anything. One of the things he'd always liked about Merlin was his complete honesty about his faults (at least those not involving magic, not that Arthur knew if he had any when it came to that). While others would bluster and try to make themselves look better, his servant just accepted the fact that he sucked without feeling dishonor or shame.

Of course, it was clear that the other thought he meant he'd wait until his sword skills improved. Arthur felt no need to imply otherwise. It'd be better to let the other think he was safe so long as he was crap with a weapon (which would probably be forever, with his clumsiness). Then he'd spring it on him and watch him get that startled face he always got whenever Arthur almost caught him doing magic or Gaius asked if he'd cleaned his room yet.

"Well…maybe you could pull me up?" Merlin finally said after a few minutes of content silence, the original problem still existing even if they'd made up.

"Getting rather lazy, aren't you?" Arthur replied with a smile.

"Clearly! I only failed at climbing ten feet with my life in danger, no reason not to try thirty," Merlin rolled his eyes. A small, devious smile came to his face and he continued, "But, of course, if you don't have the strength, then I suppose I can ask one of the other knights. No need for you to wear yourself out, sire."

"I could pull Sir Geraint up a mountain if I wanted to. It's the fact of the matter," Arthur was quick to defend his honor.

Merlin gave him a mocking smile, "Of course, sire."

Arthur shook his head in disbelief that Merlin was already starting something again, before replying, "You know, I think I've changed my mind. I am going to hit you." He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and Merlin took off towards the knights, waving his arms frantically.

"Sir Caradoc! Sir Geraint! Arthur needs your help!"

"No I don't!" Arthur yelled out frantically before he quickly began following the other.

Unfortunately, he didn't quite make it in time and in the end Merlin was pulled up the wall by Sir Kay and Sir Percival, who'd somehow been convinced that he was hiding some grievous injury under his armor that would ensure he dropped his "poor" manservant and probably cause him to be pulled out the window after him. Arthur glared at the brunette the entire time he went up and down, half tempted to push the other two knights out of the way and let him drop at least a few feet. He was positive a good scare would do wonders for his temperament.

However, he decided to not give his servant a near-death experience in favor of terrorizing him every single day for the rest of his life once the other's magic was known. Like Merlin had said, he'd probably be waiting a long time, but it would be so worth it.

_AN: Once again, not certain I like how this came out, but I suppose it'll do. I can't recall if they've ever actually gotten into a real anger-driven fight, so please forgive me if it seems a little out of character (or that it came upon too suddenly)…and let me know if you think so. I might try to fix it later. Anyway, all comments & criticisms are welcome regardless._

_I'm re-watching the episodes for season one, which is what led me to the "ass" comments (I'd completely forgotten Merlin called him that when they first met). That leads me to the question: ass or arse? I originally put "arse" in chapter one since I thought that's what they'd say in Merlin, but apparently not? Just wondering what some of you British people might think about it._


	3. Waiting for Something More

**Title:** A Matter of Patience

**Author:** Takebuo Ishimatsu

**Pairing(s):** Arthur/Merlin

**Summary:** Someone else is waiting for the day he can reveal his magic. Unfortunately, Arthur enjoys Merlin's attempts at lying too much to tell him so. Goes from pre-friendship all the way to definite Merthur. 3rd in series but can stand alone. Arthur's POV.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Merlin.

_***Way, way after Opinion & Perfection & just past the ending of season two. Still haven't seen all of it, so please forgive any mistakes.***_

**Chapter Three: Waiting for Something More**

He felt ridiculous. _Utterly_ ridiculous. And it was all his stupid manservant's fault.

He glared down at the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. It was old and battered, nowhere near the standard he had for his own clothing. It also had several spots here and there which he hadn't yet decided if they were part of the poor-quality cloth or stains. The sudden mental image of his servant completely missing his mouth while drinking seemed all too likely and he chose the latter option as being more probable.

He frowned for the umpteenth time that day upon realizing that Merlin had not only given him a raggedy old scarf, but also a _damaged_ raggedy old scarf. Worst of all, it smelled!

Well, it didn't technically "smell." It smelled like Merlin, whom didn't smell bad himself, but it was an odor entirely improper for the Crown Prince of Camelot. And anyone else for that matter! No one but Merlin should smell like Merlin, never mind that one servant girl's attempt to get into the completely oblivious brunette's pants.

He wrote off knowing Merlin's smell as an unavoidable side-effect of having the other help him dress everyday for the past year. And he flat out refused to contemplate that his quick transfer of the horny servant girl was anything more than him trying to protect the idiot. After all, if she was so desperate as to sleep with _Merlin_, who knew who else she'd been with?

Now, as for Sir Percival…

"Sire, ten more men have fallen into The Sleep," Sir Caradoc said glumly as he approached.

Arthur nodded as he was snapped away from his evil plotting of revenge upon the young knight. For his own good, of course. It just wasn't proper to be that close to another man's servant.

He watched with no little amount of upset as the newly enchanted men were carried over to the already full wagons. Every night since they'd started on their trek to King Alined's castle, several of his men would fall asleep only to not wake up in the morning. It was clearly the work of the other's newly found sorcerer, the whole reason he'd felt it safe enough to break the treaty and declare war on his neighbors.

When the news had first hit Camelot's court, Arthur had been hard pressed not to laugh. So, Alined's sorcerer could conjure some winds or whatever other stupid tricks they were so pleased with? Arthur's sorcerer could _defeat a dragon_. Unfortunately, his laughter didn't last as it'd soon become apparent that Merlin was not different than any normal man when it came to fighting an opponent he couldn't find.

And thus he came to the reason he was wearing the hideous crime against the eyes of mankind his servant so affectionately called his "good luck charm."

Despite knowing how it would look to others, he'd _graciously_ accepted the sorcerer's cloth token with nothing more than a few chosen insults directed towards his sense style, his sanity, and the other's eyesight in general. Honestly, he still didn't know why Merlin had stomped off after calling him a prat; he should be deeply honored that anyone would be willing to even _contemplate_ wearing the thing! Even if it was "good luck!"

And really, he wasn't so certain about the "good" part, considering how often Merlin managed to spill something on others or himself…was that part of a potato sticking out of one of the folds? He glared at the offending white object before gingerly plucking it out and tossing it to the side. He then paled as he suddenly wondered if that was some unknown part of the magic and seriously considered picking it up and putting it back in.

Catching Caradoc shifting his eyes from potato to scarf and back again, he decided against it. Even if he'd just ruined the "good luck" of the object and it cost him his life, he'd rather die honorably (or rather, fall asleep) alongside his men than go around with a vegetable as part of his ensemble.

As if his feeling of ill-will had called out to him, and, considering it was Merlin, he wouldn't be surprised if it had, the lanky man came walking out of the nearby woods. Goofy smile in place, he appeared to be speaking quite amiably with his knight escorts, Sir Kay and…Sir Percival. Arthur glared at the latter and even across the distance he could see the other pale and make some excuse to his companions before darting off to the left.

In turn, Merlin saw him and started jogging over.

"I told you to stay with the others," Arthur snapped once he was within hearing range. Merlin shrugged, a direct order from the Crown Prince nothing in his mind.

"I came to give you this," Merlin held up a vile full of sky-blue liquid.

Arthur rolled his eyes, before holding out his hand for the sparkling object.

"You couldn't have sent someone else to deliver it?"

Upon realizing Merlin's entire contribution to solving the magic problem was a ratty old scarf, Arthur had promptly sent his servant to the very back of the army, where there appeared to be less enchantment going on. It would seem the closer they got to Alined's castle, the more likely one was to become ill. And now, just because it was Arthur and Merlin, it was probably nine times more likely for one or both of them to get ill out of all the men, never mind Merlin's "good luck charm."

"Well, I'm the physician's assistant, so I should be here to monitor the effects to make sure it works," Merlin said with such enthusiasm that Arthur was almost tempted to believe he actually knew what he was doing.

As it was, it was a known fact that by "physician's assistant," Merlin meant his medical expertise involved carrying Gaius' potions to patients. He frowned as his father's demands for him to return home rushed to the forefront of his mind. Last time his father had tried to keep him out of danger, he'd ordered Gaius to slip him a sleeping draught, quite ironically.

He gave the potion to Caradoc for safe keeping, fearful that his sneaky manservant might actually try to slip it in his drink if he thought it'd protect his Prince. He tried to ignore the other's crestfallen look, "I'm not unwell, you can send this back to Gaius," he shared a _look_ with Sir Caradoc, one of those who knew about his previous potion problems, before he continued, "Take Merlin to the back camp and make sure he stays there this time."

"Yes sir!"

Merlin dodged away from the knight, a desperate look on his face.

"No! You need to drink it!" Merlin exclaimed and the two stopped to give him odd looks. Arthur felt that he knew what was going on.

"What is it?" he asked with false exasperation.

Caradoc held the vial up to examine the liquid carefully, but all he could give his Prince was a shrug.

"What is it?" Merlin repeated dumbly, looking from back and forth between the two with wide eyes. Arthur looked Heaven-ward, not that the sky or ceiling or anything else that had been above his head over the past year had ever given him much help in regards to the worst manservant in history.

"Yes, Merlin, I told you that I am well. So, what is it?"

"It's…um…for your…complexion," Merlin finally finished. Sir Caradoc's eyebrow rose to a height that would have put Gaius to shame.

"My what!" Arthur snapped.

All of the nearby knights halted in their work before turning to look at their Prince expectantly. A few of them went back to what they were doing upon realizing it was just Merlin, again. Others pretended to do the same while they practically leaned in closer.

"Merthur Moments," as they'd been so affectionately dubbed by Morgana, were becoming legendary in Camelot. At the rate they were going, Arthur wouldn't be surprised if people were still writing about them centuries in the future. As it was, he still wasn't quite certain why Merlin's letters got to go first in the combination. Probably just Morgana trying to annoy him.

"You're looking a bit pale, you see, and I thought I'd give you this to put some color back into your cheeks," Merlin said with a smile that was more on the "I'm silently laughing at you" side than friendly concern.

Several of his knights gave him a considering look, no doubt fearing he was coming down with some unknown illness and would drop any second. (He'd come to find that Merlin had the unfortunate ability to convince anyone anything about their Prince when he had enough enthusiasm to back him up.) Of course, others had their backs to him, and Arthur knew it was to hide their smirks. The Prince felt a flush coming on. He was going to kill Merlin, find a sorcerer to magic him back to life, and then kill him again!

"My _complexion_ is fine as well, Merlin. Now go back to the far camp!" Arthur swiftly pointed towards the woods that he'd just come from, fearing he'd smack his idiotic manservant if he didn't do something with his sword arm.

Merlin gave him his kicked puppy look before slowly turning and starting back. Arthur narrowed his eyes; that had been too easy. As usual, his "Merlin sense" wasn't wrong.

"I was just worried what others might think, with you looking all pale and…scared," Merlin he said softly. Before the words even had time to fully sink in, the other took off and was half-way across the clearing.

Caradoc's mouth was twitching and the only thing saving Merlin from being skinned alive was Arthur's assurance that no one else had heard the parting remark. Or, at least, no one there was dumb enough to comment if they had.

"Should I bring him back to you, sire?" Caradoc asked politely.

Arthur put a hand to his forehead, wondering not for the first time if he'd accidentally dropped a baby down some stairs or beat an elderly woman to death or something similar in a previous life in order to have been cursed with the existence of _Merlin_. It was as if it was his very destiny to live out his days with the most annoying sorcerer known to man!

He let his hand drop and shook his head, pleased to note that two of his knights were already riding off to catch up with the other man and make sure he was protected. Not that Merlin even needed any protection, the stupid dragon-slaying little liar!

"Give me the vial," Arthur said in a rather resigned voice, while holding out his hand expectantly. Caradoc carefully handed it over, his amused look replaced by one of contemplation.

"You think…?" he whispered.

Arthur nodded and they both took a moment to examine the liquid, as if by staring at it long enough they would be told its secrets. Finally, the Prince just shrugged and swallowed all of it in one gulp.

Caradoc continued to look at him uncertainly, only just a few weeks ago having learned of Merlin's unusual gifts. Not that he distrusted magic in general, as he'd told Arthur that his sister had secretly been sent to live in another kingdom due to her "talents" many years ago, but anyone with half a brain would worry about something Merlin made. He winced as the memory of rat stew came to him.

"Well, I don't feel any diff-" Arthur's eyes rolled back into his head and he had the wonderful sensation of warmth flash throughout him before the world went dark.

O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O

Arthur groaned as he opened his blurry eyes, feeling a bit woozy as the world continued to spin for a moment. He saw a blur of black move towards him and he absentmindedly reached out to touch it. He smiled at its softness.

A few undistinguishable words later (magic, he realized as his world came back into focus) and he was treated to the sight of him petting Merlin's hair. He jerked his hand back as if stung.

Merlin smiled at him, "Well then, now that you're all better, I'll just be going."

Even in his state, Arthur managed to snatched onto his servant's ankle as he got up to leave, causing the other to come crashing down with a yelp. He then tried to crawl out of the opening but Arthur kept his hand firmly where it was. If Merlin thought he was going to let him sneak away while he was down, he didn't know his Prince very well.

Sir Percival poked his head into the tent flap, "Is everything all right?" He brightened as he caught sight of his Prince awake and looking rather lively, if his death grip upon his wriggling manservant was anything to go by, "Sire! You're well!"

His exclamation caused a few more faces to appear, all looking rather pleased that _Merlin_ hadn't managed to kill him. Arthur mentally groaned as he suddenly imagined how the bards' tales would have gone:

O, Prince Arthur, the bravest man to ever be!

Even sorcerers and dragons were no match for he!

But instead slain by the worst manservant in history!

He was buried with a pointed weenie!

O, Prince Arthur, the bravest man to ever be!

He added that last part as he realized, rather uncomfortably, that he had a "morning" (what time was it anyway?) erection. He glanced at all the men staring at him before slowly shifting his eyes downward, managing to make it look like he was glaring at the brunette still lying pitifully alongside him. Luckily, he seemed to be piled with blankets, no doubt from them fearing he would catch a fever or something from Merlin's "complexion" potion.

"Do you need anything, sire? Water, perhaps?" Sir Kay asked softly, as if afraid that his Prince might shatter if he spoke too loud.

Arthur scowled at Merlin, who was pointedly looking in the opposite direction. The Prince knew it'd probably take him a year to live down the event. He, Crown Prince of Camelot, felled by a man who'd once needed rescuing from angry fire ants after he'd managed to trip himself into their nest. Arthur smiled wickedly as he remembered the look Merlin had given him after he'd pulled himself out of the lake they'd thrown him in.

Well, it'd gotten the ants off, hadn't it?

"No, leave us be. If I require anything, I'm certain Merlin would love to be of assistance, wouldn't you Merlin?" He gave the other's leg a sharp tug and the mop of black atop his servant's head moved back and forth as he nodded quickly.

His knights shared a look, not quite certain they liked the idea of Merlin even being allowed to sneeze within the vicinity of their Prince, but they didn't argue. Arthur wasn't quite certain he liked the idea either, but at the moment he had more _pressing matters_ that were bothering him and he just wanted the others gone. It was one thing when they all woke up together when out on a hunt, it was another entirely when he was the only one scantily clad in his nightwear, lying helpless before others' eyes.

"Arthur, I…" Merlin slowly sat up and turned, keeping his gaze downwards, "I didn't mean…"

"You didn't mean to try and kill me?" Arthur finished in a sarcastic drawl.

Merlin's gaze shot up and he quickly began shaking his head, "No! I swear on my mother's life and my life and the stars and pixie dust and that apple pie stuff that you really like, that I would never try to hurt you!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the "pixie dust" but refrained from pointing out that regular non-sorcerer peasants probably shouldn't know that such a thing existed. If anyone asked him, he'd chalk it up to all of his servant's time with Gaius. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the "apple pie stuff."

"I know. It was an accident. Just be more careful next time," Arthur responded with absolute seriousness, trying to wipe off the semi-horrified, totally-self-hateful look his friend had acquired.

Merlin's face broke into a smile so bright that if captured, it could have lighted the whole of Camelot for a week. Arthur responded with his own small quirk of the lips, trying not to forget his annoyance with the other. Before the Prince could stop him, the brunette all but threw himself onto the other for a big hug.

"Merlin!" Arthur shifted and his servant jumped away with a yelp, eyes wide.

"I think I felt something under the blankets!"

"Wait! No!" Arthur reached out to stop him but was too late and instead ended up using his hands to cover his face so as to pretend Merlin wasn't wearing that amused smirk he just _knew_ he had on.

"_Oh_." Merlin gently covered the other back up and Arthur peered through his fingers to see the other squeezing his lips together in an attempt not to smile.

"Don't. Say. Anything."

Merlin nodded his head with his best faux serious face on, though his mirthful eyes told an entirely different story. "I would never, sire!"

They sat like that for a moment, the Prince glaring at him through his fingers while Merlin maintained a stony face in the opposite direction, just gazing at the other out of the corner of his eyes. Suddenly the brunette's lips began to twitch.

"Soooooo, no formal introductions for Little Prince, then?"

"Merlin!" Arthur dived for the other and easily ended up on top of the laughing sorcerer. He seriously considered giving him a good knock in the mouth as he continued to snicker.

"I'm sorry, sire! Please don't spear me with your mighty sword!" By then he seemed to be having trouble breathing he was laughing so hard and Arthur thought it would serve him right to suffocate to death.

"If you don't shut it, I'm going to stick my 'might sword' right up your ass!" He snapped back irritably. Suddenly the tent grew deathly quiet and Merlin gave him a questioning look. Arthur groaned and rolled off the other as he realized just what he'd said.

"When we get back I'm going to have you put in the stocks for trying to poison me _and_ I'm going to give everyone potatoes. Big ones," he threatened, trying to diffuse the awkward situation.

"Well, that's not very nice," was Merlin's brilliant comeback. Arthur snorted.

Honestly, he didn't see how the idiot had managed to turn the whole situation into something so juvenile. He was a male as well, and it wasn't as if Merlin hadn't seen it before! He was there when the Prince woke up, helped him in and out of his clothing every day, and even helped him bathe!

"Get me a cool cloth," he commanded. Merlin gave him a concerned look in response.

"Are you coming down with a fever?" He reached out a hand for his forehead, which Arthur swiftly knocked away.

"No, you idiot!" Arthur gave him an uncomfortable look before continuing, "I'm feeling rather _hot_."

Merlin's eyes drifted down to the tent in his pants before coming back to give the other a determined look, "I'm not helping you with that."

Arthur rolled his eyes and gave him a shove out the tent flap, "I told you I just needed the cloth. I don't need _you_."

Once he retrieved the requested item, Merlin just stuck his hand back in the entrance, as if fearful of what he might see if he came in all the way. Arthur rolled his eyes again, only briefly contemplating if he shouldn't be more embarrassed by the thought of Merlin knowing just what he was doing. The other was his manservant, after all. What couldn't they share? Surely his father and his manservant…he quickly shut off that train of thought.

After a few moments of "relaxing" by himself, he called the other back in, holding the cloth out towards him in his best regal manner. Merlin gave him a horrified look and gingerly took the object from him with only the barest hint of his fingertips touching it. Arthur smirked, deciding then it would fun to purposely be a "prat" for a moment.

"Clean that for me," he ordered nonchalantly, pretending not to be observing Merlin's very disgruntled look.

"Clean it? I'm going to _burn_ it," Merlin whispered to himself before marching the offending object away from the blond. Arthur just shrugged and snuggled back down into his blankets. He felt rather tired again.

O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O

Arthur stretched out his arms as he awoke and all but jumped out of tent when his hand made contact with unknown skin. His hand went instantly to where his sword _should_ have been, but he found only air. He glanced back towards his unknown opponent with hidden worry.

Taking in the "stranger" now that he was fully awake, he forced himself to calm down as his brain finally caught up with the rest of his reflexes and he realized it was just Merlin, as usual.

He sighed, wondering if there was _any_ other person out there in all of Camelot who shared their bed with a servant without the purpose of sex. He doubted there was, but, then again, he also doubted there was any other servant out there who just took it upon himself to be made comfy in his lord's room. Well, tent, technically, but he'd caught Merlin sleeping in his bed before so he decided the annoyed sentiment applied to his royal chambers back at the castle as well. However, considering how his armor had been polishing _itself_ at the time of discovery, he'd never quite gotten around to reprimanding his idiot servant for lazing about where he shouldn't.

"Merlin, we _really_ need to have a talk about your lack of proper decorum," Arthur drawled as he gently pushed the other's shoulder. Merlin didn't stir a _bit_, and the Prince rolled his eyes. "_Merlin_, get your skinny arse up!" Still his servant didn't seem to take notice of his annoyed master and said master was starting to get a little worried.

"Merlin!" He shook the other vigorously but it had no effect. Arthur frantically looked around the tent before catching sight of the nasty old scarf his friend was so fond of. He grabbed hold of it and quickly wrapped it around the other, hoping for Merlin's "good luck" to do something which apparently he couldn't.

Once again, Merlin didn't wake and Arthur suddenly remembered the potato he'd flung out of it yesterday. Could it be? With the idea only half formed in his mind, he darted out in only his pants, ignoring the odd looks he received from the knights guarding over his "sleeping quarters."

"Sire? Are you well?" Caradoc asked carefully, reaching out a hand but not quite placing it on the other. Only Merlin had the audacity to touch royalty without permission.

"The potato I threw out yesterday! I need it!" He didn't even look towards the knight as he continued his search of the grounds.

"Yesterday? Sire, it's been three days since you collapsed. Are you feeling ill?" Caradoc asked uncertainly, beginning to wonder if Merlin's concoction had addled the Prince's brain.

Arthur looked at his knight for a moment before shaking his head, "We'll speak of that later, right now I need to find that potato. Merlin's…he's not waking," he finished in a whisper. Caradoc's eyes widened and he began searching as well.

Of course, their odd behavior soon drew the attention of the others around them and after that all the knights were divided. All those that _knew_ were sent to look as well while those that didn't were pointed over towards the outskirts of their camp to look for "Arthur's pendant."

"Sire, I think I found it!" Kay exclaimed with joy, holding out a nasty old potato towards his lord. Arthur broke out into a wonderful smile, just managing to grasp hold of the object as he heard a sleepy voice call out behind him.

"Found what?" All at once the knights turned to give incredulous looks towards the formerly "unwakeable" manservant walking towards them out of the tent before their eyes went back to The Potato, marveling at its power. Merlin followed their gaze and gave the object a skeptical look.

"Is that a potato?" he asked slowly, glancing at each member of nobility as if they'd lost their minds. It was in that moment that Arthur wondered if he'd not made a mistake and the scarf had been doing its job after all.

Everyone turned towards their Prince, who was still holding the vegetable as if it was the Holy Grail itself, wondering what to do next. Sir Kay began fidgeting and looking guilty, while the others seemed to hold their breath, wondering if this was the moment the truth became known to Merlin. Arthur took and let out a deep breath, looking directly into his friend's eyes.

"Merlin, there's something I need to tell you," he said with utmost seriousness. Merlin nodded uncertainly, no doubt feeling the charged atmosphere.

"You _really_ need to start paying attention to the details," Arthur finished dramatically as he grabbed hold of the other's hand and placed the nasty old potato in it. He heard an undignified "huh" come somewhere from Kay's direction but he imagined from the shifting sound afterwards that his knights had pushed the confused lad to the back of the group, lest he give anything away.

For his part, Merlin looked as if he wasn't quite certain if he should be disgruntled to have his hand violated in such a way or amused with the whole situation. In the end, he seemed to settle on the latter and he gave his Prince and impish look.

"You've already said that, sire," he replied, holding the white object towards the blond.

Arthur pushed the brunette's hand back towards his chest, "Well, this time I really mean it. That was in that disgusting, ratty, ugly, offending, there's really not even enough bad words in the English language to describe it, scarf you happen to be wearing at the moment." He finished with a nod towards the cloth, but if he thought Merlin would be horrified, he was sorely mistaken.

Instead, his manservant got a contemplative look on his face, "You know, I thought I'd dropped something while at dinner the other day, but I couldn't for the life of me find it. Guess that must have been it." He shrugged as if having his own vegetable garden starting in various parts of his attire was nothing new. Then again, considering it was Merlin, perhaps it wasn't.

"Were you looking for it just so you could give it back to me?" Merlin asked in a way that clearly told everyone present that the Prince had just jumped to whole new heights when it came to being a "prat" in his book.

"You wouldn't wake up, so I figured _I'd_ find _you_ breakfast instead this morning," Arthur responded with a snap, hiding his fear behind his usual "annoyed Prince" mask. When he'd thought Merlin had fallen into The Sleep…

"Well, yeah, that's a side effect of the potion I made. You know when everyone thought I'd killed you? You're actually supposed to fall asleep, ironically, and that will make you immune to The Sleep. It's supposed to knock you out for a few days, actually, but with all the commotion, I must have woken up early. I told Sir Percival what I was going to do, he should have told you," Merlin finished with a frown pointed towards the knight, one of those on the far side of the clearing still looking for a nonexistent pendant.

Arthur was annoyed that _Percival_ had been the one to gain Merlin's confidences while he was out and vowed to train the other like he'd never trained anyone before. He would be sore for a week after the first hour!

He had to admit, as a side note, that Merlin was certainly getting better at lying. Of course, no one pointed out that the Prince hadn't even twitched when the entire camp had been up in arms at the thought of Merlin accidentally killing him. And he'd apparently slept for three days while Merlin had only been out however long. Clearly, magic in one's blood did more than just give you a one-way ticket to the pyre.

"I see. Very well then, we'll have to make a plan as to how to administer it in a way that we'll have enough people awake to defend the camp while the others are sleeping," Arthur turned towards his closest knights before turning back towards his drowsy looking servant. "Next time you need to tell someone of your secret plan and I am not available, tell one of them." He waived towards the knights "in the know." Merlin gave him a weird look but nodded nonetheless.

He was about to turn back towards his men when a terrible thought struck him. If Merlin was actually telling the truth about the potion, and the potato clearly meant nothing to him as well, then what about the scarf? Had Arthur been going around with that monstrosity around his neck for a week for no reason? He felt fury building within him, believing Merlin had made him look a fool on purpose.

"Merlin, tell me the truth! If your potion is going to be our help, then why did you ask me to wear your 'good luck charm' for? If you've been playing a joke on me, I swear I'll-"

"My mother made it for me when I left for Camelot," Merlin whispered, gently playing with one of the ends. Arthur felt his anger leave in a great big whoosh, as if the air had been knocked out of him. Everyone knew how much the other loved his mother.

Trying to save face, the Prince responded, "So it's not lucky, then."

Merlin looked affronted, "It is!"

"Merlin, the first day you arrived in Camelot you were thrown in the dungeons, put in the stocks _and_ we were all attacked by a sorceress. If that's your version of good luck, I can see why you're the worst manservant in history."

Merlin scowled at Arthur's mocking, "Oh really? Well, if that sorceress hadn't attacked then I wouldn't have been made your manservant in the first place! And if we hadn't managed to make such impressions on each other that lead to me being thrown in the dungeons and put in the stocks, then we may not have the same relationship we do now and I would be just another servant!"

The air grew tense again and all of the nearby knights gave some sort of excuse before darting off in various directions, leaving the pair alone. As amused as they may be by the numerous "Merthur Moments," everyone seemed to realize what they were talking about was private.

Arthur felt _something_ stir within him at Merlin's confession, but he waived it off as pride or loyalty or something along those lines.

"So, you're saying, it's lucky because we became friends. Even for you, Merlin, that's pretty girly," Arthur ridiculed, but with no real heat. Merlin's lips turned upwards.

"I thought I was too lowly to be the friend of Great Prince Arthur," he replied cheekily. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I never said _I_ thought we became friends, that's your own mistaken view of the world."

"Of course, sire," Merlin nodded with false seriousness before his face broke into a far too self-pleased grin. Arthur just sighed and marched off in the opposite direction. He had too many things to worry about at the moment than his idiotic manservant's misguided attempts to befriend those _significantly_ above his rank.

Still, as he walked off, he couldn't quite decide what he was waiting for this time. He supposed he was waiting for the day Merlin's magic was known and thus he wouldn't look like an idiot in his attempts to help out in an area he had no expertise. Honestly, how was he to ever know what did and didn't come as part of Merlin's magic? The potato had seemed like a good idea at the time.

However, he also wondered, in a quiet, distant part of his mind, if he wasn't waiting for the day Merlin had rank enough to officially be acknowledged as something more than a servant. After all, while not nobility per se, Arthur had to admit, even he couldn't find fault with befriending the Court Sorcerer.

He just had to wait a little bit longer.

Posted 7/29/10

_AN: Wow, this chapter really got away from me. I have no idea where half this stuff came from, but I think I like this chapter better than all the other Merlin I've written! What do you guys think?_

_Also, I know, I know! There's quite a few modernisms in it, but technically the show has them too, so hopefully I'm not too atrocious for throwing them in here and there. _

_Finally, I can't believe no one noticed! (Including me!) My original author's note stated that the first chapter of this story is pre-Opinion & Perfection _however_, it has come to my attention that that can't be possible since the whole point of this story is Arthur knowing & he clearly doesn't know in those two. So, I'll be changing that little note. Please forget it ever existed._


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